


Studying The (Actual) Civil War sucks

by IronDadAndHisSpiderson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Irondad, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Lives in Avengers Tower, Peter Parker has PTSD, Peter's Spider Sense occasionally identifies things as a bigger threat than they are, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Spider Sense can be a little much at times..., Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronDadAndHisSpiderson/pseuds/IronDadAndHisSpiderson
Summary: Peter's class is studying the US Civil War (not the Avenger's Civil War, thank goodness... that would just be awkward). Unfortunately, the unit includes watching a documentary. Peter has a panic attack, but luckily for him, his friends and Mr. Stark are always there for him.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & original characters
Comments: 1
Kudos: 99





	Studying The (Actual) Civil War sucks

**Author's Note:**

> Peter has a panic attack in this story. If that might be triggering to you, please be careful!
> 
> Also, I know that parents usually have to like sign the kids out at the office if they're leaving in the middle of the day, but I sorta skipped that, so... yeah. It's not technically accurate. Who cares?

Peter set his backpack down on the floor in front of his locker and gently pulled his left arm across his chest, stretching his shoulder. He let out a soft groan at the burn across the back of his shoulder and upper back as he stretched the sore muscles. He might have super healing, but it hadn't quite gotten rid of all the pain from dislocating his shoulder two days ago during a mission.

"Hey, Peter!" Maya's cheerful voice made him turn around. They smiled at each other and Peter let Maya pull him into a hug, sucking in a sharp breath as it aggravated his shoulder. She quickly pulled back, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?" Maya asked, "Did I hurt you?" Peter smiled and waved a hand before turning and pulling out his history books and shoving them into his backpack.

"You're fine," Peter reassured, "I messed up my shoulder on Saturday and it's not quite finished healing yet." Maya looked guilty.

"You should have said something!" she said, "I don't want to hurt you!" Peter smiled and picked up his backpack.

"It's fine, Maya, I promise," he said with a smile as he shut his locker, "Shall we?" Peter gestured with his head down the hallway towards their history classroom. Maya held out her hand.

"Let me carry your bag," she said, "Give your shoulder a break." Peter smiled and handed over the bag.

"Thanks," he said, feeling a little guilty taking her up on the offer, but it _would_ do his shoulder good to get a break. Maya shouldered his bag along with her own, and they set off down the hallway towards their history class.

"You doing okay today?" Maya asked, glancing at him as they made their way through the hallways. "Anything you want to talk about from this weekend?" Peter smiled at her. As one of the few people apart from the Avengers that knew of his alter-ego, Maya was always there to listen to him after a particularly hard mission. He half-shrugged, not wanting to move his injured shoulder too much. 

"Didn't sleep too well last night," Peter admitted, "Tony's arc reactor was damaged during the fight and I kept having nightmares about it going out. But the mission wasn't that bad. The only reason I hurt my shoulder was that I made a stupid choice."

"I'm sure you made the best choice you could in the moment," Maya said, and Peter smiled at her. She always knew how to make him feel better. He held the classroom door open for her as they entered. "Did Tony fix the reactor?" Maya asked as they took their seats, next to each other, near the back of the classroom.

"Yeah, he got back to the Tower and switched it out for his backup before it could cause too much of a problem," Peter said, "The damage was only minor and he'll probably have it up and running again by tonight." He smiled and shook his head at the realization that Tony would probably spend the entire day in his lab, trying to improve his new arc reactor before putting it in.

Just then, the bell rang to signal the start of class. Peter and Maya turned their attention to the front of the room as their teacher, Mr. Campbell, began taking roll call. He rambled through quite a few names and Peter zoned out a little as the students answered. 

"Peter Parker?" Mr. Campbell called.

"He-augh!" Peter said, beginning to raise his hand. A twinge of pain shot through his injured shoulder and he slumped forward onto his desk, breathing out in a sharp hiss. After a moment, the pain lessened and he straightened. "Here," Peter said, aware that everyone's eyes were on him now. Mr. Campbell looked at him in concern for a moment, then continued with the roll call. When he had finished with roll call, Mr. Campbell turned on the Smartboard at the front of the room, displaying a computer screen with a movie pulled up.

"As I said on Friday, we're going to be watching a documentary about the American Civil War to finish up our unit," Mr. Campbell said, "Remember to take notes, as you can use them on your test tomorrow." Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. he had forgotten that they were going to be watching a movie today. A war movie was really not appealing to him right now (or ever). He sighed, and Maya caught his eye.

"You okay?" she mouthed as the movie started. Peter nodded, a jerky, forced motion. He pulled out paper and a pencil, then scribbled out a note, which he passed to her.

 _Can you take notes? I might need to zone out for some of it. It might hit too close to home._ Peter wrote, then passed the paper to Maya, who read it quickly, then nodded. She wrote something else, then passed the paper back. Peter read it. _Of course. I'll give you the notes after class. Do what you need to._ Peter exchanged a smile with Maya, then turned his attention to the screen. Mr. Campbell turned out the lights in the room and Peter tensed slightly, then the movie started.

For the first few minutes of the movie, Peter did okay. He was tense and having to force his breathing to stay slow, but all in all it wasn't too bad.

Then the movie switched, showing the battlefield through the eyes of a soldier. Peter felt his spider-senses kick in, warning him of danger. _Fuck!_ Peter thought, closing his eyes and lowering his head onto his desk, trying to focus on his breathing, _I can't do this! Fuck!_ Then his spider-senses heightened a second before another shot rang out, and Peter's head jerked up to see a bullet coming for him in slow-motion. Peter scrambled to get out of the way, but his legs tangled in something and he fell, smashing hard into the ground, still tangled with something.

And suddenly, there was shouting and confusion all around him, and Peter's senses were overloading and _it was all too much!_ Peter felt hot tears run down his cheeks as he tried to grasp onto _anything_ to help him understand. He didn't know what was happening, and his head hurt, and something was pinning him, tangling with his legs. Peter screamed for Mr. Stark, but he didn't even know if a noise left his mouth. Still, he screamed.

Then everything was harsh lights, and yelling, and _so many people_. Peter scrambled free of whatever was pulling at his legs, trying to trap him and pulled himself away from the people. And his shoulder _burned_ and he had been shot, and he didn't know where he was. Peter did the only thing he could, he called out over and over for Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark would keep him safe. Mr. Stark would protect him.

"Peter, you're having a panic attack," a familiar voice, male, calm, _safe_ , cut through the chaos, "You are not in danger. You are having a panic attack." Peter struggled to place the voice. It wasn't Mr. Stark, but his vision had gone grey and he couldn't see who was talking. Peter curled into a ball, putting his hands over his head protectively. 

"Peter, can you count with me?" The voice asked, "We're going to count by threes, starting with zero. Focus on the numbers, alright? Three, six, nine..." Peter was gasping for breath, still trying to understand what was happening. Finally, he gave in and started counting with the other voice.

"Twenty-four, twenty-seven, thirty, thirty-three," Peter mumbled, focusing on the numbers. Counting was safe. Counting was good. He could count. Slowly, he felt his body calming, and he was able to recognise the voice.

"Thank-thank you, JARVIS," Peter mumbled, not raising his head, "We can stop counting now." JARVIS' voice stopped a moment later, after saying "one hundred and eleven". There was a moment of relative silence, before JARVIS spoke again.

"Do you know where you are?" JARVIS asked. Peter tensed, confused and still scared. He remembered a bullet, screaming, and pain, _so much pain!_ But mixed in with that were falshing images of a classroom, of Maya, and of Tony with a darkened arc reactor, lying dead in the Tower. He shook his head, "no".

"You're at school, Peter. You're safe." JARVIS said, and Peter frowned. _How could JARVIS be talking to him at school?_ Peter felt his heart rate begin to climb again. He was being tricked.

"Peter?" The voice was different this time, "It's just a recording of JARVIS. You're safe. You're at school." Peter managed to focus his eyes on the speaker. He blinked blankly for a moment as he realized that he was, indeed, at school and that Maya was crouched in front of him.

"Maya?" Peter mumbled, finally relaxing as his surroundings solidified. He felt drained, as if all of his energy had been sucked out of him, leaving only a confused and scared shell. He held out his arms towards her, trembling. In that moment, Peter felt like a little kid again, who just wanted an adult to tell him, "It's okay, I'll take care of everything. You're going to be just fine." Maya pulled him into a hug.

"Call Mr. Stark?" Peter mumbled, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Yeah, we'll call Mr. Stark," Maya said quietly, "You're gonna be okay." Peter relaxed against her. He vaguely heard talking , but couldn't focus on it. Then Maya was coaxing him to his feet. He stumbled upright, feeling shaky, but more aware of his surroundings. He felt a twinge of embarrassment as he realized that everyone was staring at him, but he was too drained and confused and scared to really care. Maya picked up a backpack and stuffed some papers into it, then led Peter from the room.

Peter sat in the office, staring blankly at the wall across from him, Maya's hand clutched in his. It was grounding to feel their pulses throbbing in his palm. He felt dull, but on-edge at the same time. Maya was talking quietly, but he hadn't really heard anything she was saying. That was okay, she would understand. Then, the office door opened, and Peter's head whipped towards it. 

"Mr. Stark," Peter whispered, relief flooding through him as the man stepped into the office, taking off his aviators. Peter stumbled to his feet, releasing Maya's hand, and stumbled towards Mr. Stark. 

"Peter, Peter, it's okay now," Mr. Stark said quietly as the teen launched himself at him. He wrapped Peter up in a strong hug, "It's alright Peter, I'm here now. You're safe." Peter whimpered, a fresh wave of tears flooding out of him. 

"I'm sorry-" Peter mumbled as he realized his tears were making the front of Mr. Stark's suit jacket wet. Mr. Stark shushed him, running a soothing hand through Peter's hair. 

"Don't be sorry, Peter," Mr. Stark said quietly, "You haven't done anything wrong." They hugged for a long moment before Peter felt himself being lifted effortlessly. Instinctively, he wrapped his legs around Mr. Stark's waist, and clung tighter with his arms that were around his neck. Peter buried his face in Mr. Stark's shoulder and let himself be carried out to a car. Mr. Stark settled him in the car, then went back inside to retrieve Peter's bag. 

"Let's go home and get you some soup, 'kay?" Mr. Stark suggested as he buckled himself in and turned on the engine, "That always helps." 

"Only if Bucky makes it," Peter mumbled curling up into a little ball on his seat. Tony made a noise of playful indignation. 

"What? My soup isn't _that_ bad!" 

"Bucky's is better," Peter mumbled, a slight smile crossing his face. Mr. Stark sighed dramatically as they pulled out of the parking lot. 

"You think a fossil makes better soup than me. What has the world come to?" 

***

"Do you want to talk about what happened today, Peter?" Mr. Stark asked gently. Peter was curled up in his bed, the empty soup bowl on his bedside table. Bucky had made his best, one he called the "Brooklyn Blend". Mr. Stark called it "Fossil Soup #1". Mr. Stark was seated on the end of Peter's bed, looking at him with concern. 

"We were watching a film," Peter mumbled, "About the American civil war." He saw Mr. Stark flinch visibly. 

"I'm sorry, Peter, you told me on Friday that you'd be watching that," Mr. Stark said, "I should have talked to the school about it. There's a reason war films are banned from the Tower." Peter nodded. 

"And my spider-senses kicked in," Peter mumbled, "And I don't really know what happened after that. But Maya played the JARVIS recording, and that brought me back." 

"Are you feeling a bit better now?" Mr. Stark asked. Peter nodded. 

"Mmm-hm," he affirmed, "But can you stay 'till I'm sleeping?" Mr. Stark smiled gently and tucked the sheets in around Peter. 

"Of course," Mr. Stark said, "Shall I have JARVIS play something?" Peter shook his head. 

"Can, can y'just talk to me?" he asked, stifling a yawn, "Tell me 'bout how you designed your suit or something." Mr. Stark smiled softly, then began to talk. Peter drifted off to the familiar sound of Tony babbling on about all the science that went into making a metal suit fly. 

Peter was grateful that he dreamt of nothing.


End file.
